


Lessons

by Melusine6619



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine6619/pseuds/Melusine6619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivanova finally takes Marcus up on Minbari lessons, and she ends up learning a lot more about the Ranger than she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Written and posted in 1998 under the pen name OldHistory on the now defunct Marcus Cole Estrogen Brigade fanfic list.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to JMS, TNT, etc. I'm only borrowing them  
for a little fun.

There are no spoilers in this piece.

Thanks to SlyLurker for beta-reading.

\-------------------------------------------

Susan Ivanova rushed from her post in C&C and into her quarters. She glanced at the chronometer. Fifteen minutes to spare. She couldn’t quite believe she had agreed to this evening, but she had. Marcus Cole was coming over to begin instructing her in the Minbari language. He had hounded her for days,insisting that she had plenty of time now that the wars were over. What surprised her most was the unavoidable fact that she was looking forward to the idea. She tried for days after she had agreed to convince herself that it was simply because she didn’t want to make any more mistakes. The last thing she wanted was to cause an incident or snickers about her lingerie. That’s what her *head* wanted to believe, at any rate.

The undeniable truth was, she *wanted* to spend time alone with him. For two years they had been comrades in arms, striving together against the darkness. Through all that time she had sensed his feelings for her, but afraid of her own, she had done nothing to encourage him. But lately, she had begun to listen as much to her heart as to her head, and her heart told her things. It told her that she really liked his humor, that she respected his intelligence, that she appreciated his compassion, that she admired his dogged persistence. Added to that, she began to *really* notice him physically: the lithe grace of his body, the heated intensity of his gaze when he thought she wasn’t looking, and the velvet tones of his voice that turned her bones to jelly. It was a combination irresistible to even the battle-scarred Russian.

She pulled her hair out of its customary braid and shrugged out of her jacket before rummaging in her closet for something to wear. She was tempted, very tempted, to greet him in a silk nightgown and robe, just to see his reaction if she did, but decided against it. Instead she chose a low-cut, barely opaque, black silk blouse and matching pants. She threw aside her bra, freeing her breasts from its confines. After dressing, she donned silver hoop earrings, liking the way they dangled against her neck and set off her tan skin. She had just decided to leave off shoes when the door chime rang. Hoping she sounded composed, she called out, “Come,” as she padded into the living area.

The door opened and Marcus strolled gracefully into Susan’s quarters. He stopped abruptly as his eyes found her. He made no effort to hide the fact that he was admiring her figure. His gaze swept unabashedly from her face to her feet, pausing momentarily on the swell of her breasts, the taut nipples, and back up again. “Good evening, Susan,” he murmured, smiling. He wasn’t sure what language he had just spoken in. He had almost forgotten his name and where he was.

“Marcus,” she inclined her head slightly, her own eyes busily tracing his lean form. He was wearing his uniform, save for his cloak, and his face was covered with a fine sheen, as if he’d run the whole way. “Would you care for a drink?” She turned to indicate the bar.

“Yes, thanks. What do you have?”

“Vodka, vodka, and vodka. Unless you’d rather have coffee. I’m going to have vodka,” she said as she strolled over to the bar and opened the bottle. She felt the heat of his gaze as she moved.

Marcus surprised her with, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

She turned toward him, her expression sceptical. She had always assumed he was a whiskey man. Somehow that fit more with his persona than his trying vodka. “Are you sure?”

“I’m always up for new experiences,” he said quietly. His voice was full of humor, but his eyes spoke volumes.

She raised her eyebrows speculatively, and before she could stop herself, asked, “Such as?”

“Such as whatever life has to offer.”

Her color heightened appreciably at his words. This conversation was beginning to sound vaguely like the one in her dreams. She found herself just staring at him, wondering if his beard would tickle, and then imagining the various places it *could*. The room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. She shook her head, the hoops swaying rhythmically against her cheeks. She cleared her throat and said, “Well, if this is your first taste of vodka, I’d better warn you. It has no taste going down, but it can play hell with you  
later, especially in the mornings.” As she spoke, she held out a glass filled with the clear liquid.

“No smell, either,” he remarked after sniffing. He sipped carefully. “You’re right; it has no taste, but it does have a zing to it, doesn’t it?”

Susan smiled at him and sipped her own drink. “It helps in the Russian winters--and springs, and summers, and autumns. She frowned into her drink, then shifted the subject abruptly. “I suppose we should start on the lessons, shouldn’t we?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Let’s see. Why don’t we start with something simple,” he suggested, and launched into the alphabet. He taught her the letters automatically, his mind returning again and again to the vision of Susan’s lovely breasts covered by the barest whisper of black silk. He fantasized about caressing them first with his hands, then with his mouth. She would moan and beg for more, and he’d be only too happy to oblige . . .

“Marcus?”

He looked up to see Susan staring at him strangely. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, and she had leaned forward, trying to get his attention. Not that she needed to try. For a brief, panic-filled second, he thought he’d spoken aloud, but he hadn’t. He’d spent the last minute with his eyes transfixed on her chest. He hadn’t meant to stare, but he had never seen her in anything quite so *interesting* before. Her blouse both revealed and hid her curves, and the effect was alluring. He imagined even Aphrodite herself would pale in comparison to this goddess. He shook his head to clear it.

Susan just smiled at him, knowing he wanted her. She didn’t need to be a telepath to know *that* look. She smiled again when Marcus resumed the lesson. He was nervous, or maybe just unsure of her feelings and unwilling to push where he didn’t think he was wanted. She didn’t let it bother her. There was plenty of time later. One lesson could lead to another. She repeated the next letter with a glint in her eye.

When she had mastered the alphabet, Susan asked him to teach her the words for different objects around her quarters. Marcus obliged her by standing and pointing to the floor, saying the word in Minbari and Standard, which Susan repeated as she moved to stand beside him. The scent of his aftershave combined with the clean, musky smell that was *him* was intoxicating.

He glanced at her sharply as she placed a light hand on his arm. His first thought was that Susan was acting rather unusual this evening. His second thought was that he hoped she would continue. He reached out a hand of his own to brush up her back. She leaned into his touch, causing him to breathe in sharply. He cleared his throat, and picked up a book. He continued in this way, pointing out everyday objects, naming them, then having Susan repeat their names.

She walked with him around the rooms, admiring yet again the easy grace with which he moved and fantasizing about just what kind of lover he would be. He would be slow and tender until he sensed that her desire matched his, then he would take her over the edge in a rush of heated lovemaking . . .

She was lost in thought when she heard him ask, “Hello? You there?”

“Yes. I was just thinking that learning Minbari isn’t as easy as you make it sound,” she covered.

“You’ll catch on,” he encouraged. “You’ve done quite well tonight. But, I suppose, like all good things, your first lesson should come to an end.”

“What about the bedroom?” Susan asked softly.

“The bedroom?” he repeated blankly.

“You haven’t told me the names of things in the bedroom,” she pointed out.

He nodded and walked after her to the sleeping area. As he had in the other areas, he pointed out, “Mirror. Closet . . . ,” naming them in Minbari, then translating. He paused awkwardly at the foot of Susan’s neatly made bed. “Bed.” And then, in a low voice, he began speaking in Minbari. He looked at her intently, then down at his boots. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, as if whatever he’d said warranted a slap, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

Susan wondered what that speech was all about. Watching him closely, she saw his hands clenching into fists, as if he were trying to restrain himself. She noticed, too, the faint blush that had crept across his face. She asked, “And that means?”

“That means I’ve been here too long tonight, and I really should go before I make a complete ass of myself.” He made as if to retreat, but Susan grabbed his arm.

“Translate.” It was an order.

He sighed and prepared himself for the blow he was sure to receive. His smoky blue-green eyes met hers, and he translated, “I said that I feel as if I’m standing at the gate of heaven itself. And I said, someday, I’d like to share your bed, and more.” He looked down at his boots again. “I was out of line, you see,” he apologized.

Her reaction was unexpected. She smiled, and her eyes softened to a deep, inviting blue. She placed gentle hands on his chest to feel the rapid thud of his heart. It seemed to vibrate into her very soul. It was a warm, comforting sensation, yet highly arousing. Heat began to suffuse her entire body. Her voice trembled when she was finally able to say, “I was wondering when you’d get around to saying anything. You’ve been wanting to for a long time, haven’t you?”

He slowly released the breath he had been holding. He was completely amazed that Susan wasn’t throwing things at him and shouting insults or threatening to space him. He had steeled himself for hard blows, not the gentle touch that seared him even through the thick layers of his tunic and shirt. He reached unsteady hands up to cover hers, caressing the supple skin as he stared into the soft, inviting depths of her eyes. Finally he found the courage to unburden his heart. In a suddenly gruff voice, he told her, “Yes. I love you. I want you. Maybe ‘want’ isn’t a strong enough word. Susan, I *crave* you, your strength, your gentleness, your fire, all of you.”

She could tell he was sincere. She could see it in his clear, steady gaze, could feel it in the heartbeat that vibrated from his chest through her hands, could hear it in the rich timbre of his voice. The truth of his words was more exciting than any of the myriad come-on lines she had ever heard. Now he waited for either her acceptance, or her rejection. She paused almost a second too long, and he started to push her hands away and leave. “I love you, Marcus Cole,” she rushed ahead before he could do so. “And I want you, too.”

She had barely gotten the words out before his mouth brushed against hers in a feather-soft kiss. He drew back just long enough to murmur, “God, such soft lips,” before covering her mouth again. He traced over her lips gently, moving back and forth, measuring her response, allowing her to set the pace and intensity. She shuddered against him, feeling the heat of his kiss travel through her body before settling in her core. Her hands moved to tangle in the hair on the back of his neck. His own hands moved tentatively down to her bottom, caressing it, and he gasped as she moved closer still until she was pressed intimately against him.

She arched her head back, and he accepted the invitation, following the line of her throat with heated lips. She knew absolute need as she longed to feel him do the same to every part of her body. She closed her eyes, and breathed, “Marcus,” in a low, husky voice. He slowly moved his lips back up to hers,  
this time tracing over them with his tongue before tenderly nibbling her lower lip. She parted her lips, and her tongue met his in a sweet duel before she drew it into her mouth and sucked gently. She felt Marcus tremble, and she smiled against his mouth before repeating the movement and then letting go. He took the opportunity to explore the sweetness of her mouth. He plundered with hot insistence, then soothed with gentle caresses. He tasted every part of her and found himself hungry for more.

Susan moved her hands, wanting to explore his body, but the thick material of his clothing hampered her efforts. She reached to unclasp the belt that held his tunic closed. It hit the floor with a thud. She removed the offending garment as he moved first one arm, then the other to help. That done, she reached for the hem of his shirt, buried within his trousers. She tugged impatiently at it until she pulled it loose. Only then did he break contact with her lips to gaze at her with smoldering eyes as she pulled the dark brown garment up and over his head. She felt another deep shudder just looking at him.

Years of training and privation as a Ranger had formed his body into lean muscle. A few scars were visible, but they did nothing to detract from the beauty of him. She lifted adoring hands to trace the line of his shoulders, down his sides, up across the absolutely flat abdomen, and up to his nipples. Slowly she circled them with light fingertips, then raked her thumbs over them. They hardened at her light touch, and he threw his head back, groaning with pleasure. She bent her head, tracing her lips and tongue over his chest, tasting the saltiness of his body, exulting as his hands clenched in her hair, and he murmured in a low voice, “Susan.” She moved her head back up to claim his mouth again.

Marcus continued to rake his hands through her hair before tangling them in the silky mass and pulling her closer. Then he slowly moved them down her back, up, and around to capture her breasts. He caressed them gently, squeezed them, then caressed again before raking his thumbs over the already hard nipples. Not waiting to remove her blouse, he planted a hot kiss on each one, suckling through the silky material as his hands worked to undo the buttons. When he finally slipped the blouse off her, he stood back for a moment to admire the smooth, tan skin, the firm, round breasts, the dusky pink nipples begging to be touched again. In a passion-roughened voice, he breathed, “Beautiful.”

She moaned and tangled her hands in his hair when his mouth closed over a nipple again. He traced the hardened flesh with his tongue, then sucked. He swirled his tongue around, flicking, teasing, then sucking again before moving to give its twin the same attention. His beard *did* tickle; it seemed to vibrate gently across her skin, sending shivers through her. She arched toward him, yearning for more, feeling the heat spread from the aroused peaks to settle in her core. Her voice was aching as she murmured, “Yes, oh yes.”

Then he blazed a molten trail of kisses over the tanned mounds of flesh before moving to explore other areas. She whimpered softly, feeling deprived of the stimulation, but felt a pleasant and unexpected tingle of warmth as he sucked gently on her index finger. He moved his hands back up to caress her bottom again as he kissed her arms, the hollow of her throat, then returned to her breasts before moving insistently lower.

His hands trembled as he inched her pants down over the swell of her hips, past the firm thighs and calves, and finally away from the slender feet. Lacy black panties followed. His eyes traveled back up the path to settle on the triangle of tight brown curls. And all he wanted to do at that moment was throw her on the bed and thrust inside her again and again until he came. He swallowed hard, grasping for some control over the mind-numbing lust that was consuming him.

She pulled him to stand beside her, and her hands moved to caress the taut muscles of his back before coming to rest on his buttocks. She squeezed the firm muscles as she pulled him close, grinding herself against him provocatively. They both groaned at the contact. She slid a hand between them to stroke the impressive bulge. “We need to get you out of these trousers,” she teased softly. “I’m afraid your badgers are getting restless.”

His response was somewhere between a groan and a strangled laugh. “One in particular, anyway,” he rasped. He bent to remove his boots, fumbling with the laces. “Bugger,” he muttered as he almost lost his balance. He straightened to undo the pants, but she stopped him, and, with sure hands undid the closures, pulling the garment down and tossing it aside. She looked up at him and smiled. His breath was coming hard, his eyes hooded with desire. She bent to her task again, inching his briefs slowly over the straining muscle, down, and away. He was well-endowed in proportion to his slim body. She sighed in appreciation as she closed her hand around his shaft. She ached to feel him deep within her.

She played her fingers along his cock, gently squeezing now and then. His breath came faster and harder, and she began to match her rhythm to it, closing her hand firmly around the shaft and stroking hard from the base to the tip and down again. She knew he probably wouldn’t last long if she kept this up, and she wanted that. There was so much she wanted to teach him. She stroked again, this time closing her mouth over him. She glanced up at her lover. His head was thrown back, and he swallowed convulsively, the muscles of his neck stretched taut. He was a beautiful sight.

He closed his hands around her shoulders and looked back down at her. If he hadn’t felt lust before, it raged through him now as he took in the sight of her. Her hair was wild, her earrings swayed gently with her rhythm, and her lips were red and puffy as they moved along his shaft. Heat rushed through him, surging, building. A strangled cry tore from his lips, “Oh, God, I’m. . . Aahhh!” He came hard, the overflow dribbling down her chin, which she promptly licked clean. He closed his eyes, his body shaking. “Oh God. Oh God.”

He pulled her to her feet and held her close. She was shaking as much as he was. He moved his hands down to cup her ass, massaging the curves. Then he lifted her up easily, holding her with one arm while his free hand sought her woman’s flesh. “Mmm,” he breathed. He closed his mouth on the breast that was so enticingly close and suckled it. He shook hard again as he heard her moan, low and throaty. He managed to make it the few steps to the bed, laughing as he fell down with her.

His mouth sought hers again, gently, not wishing to bruise her already swollen lips. She moaned against him, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Her tongue traced over his lips, darting inside and exploring. She curled her tongue around his before sweeping the roof of his mouth. She nipped at his lips, then swept her tongue back in to trace along his teeth. He finally tore himself away to stare at her.

She was beautiful, wanton in her need, so unlike the proper commander everyone thought they knew so well. He had sensed the passionate side of her ever since he’d known her and had dreamed of seeing her like this. Now here she was, her hair spilling over her pillow, her skin flushed, her lips begging to be kissed again, her chest heaving, her legs splayed in invitation. She wasn’t cold at all. Molten lava ran in her veins, not ice water. And she wanted *him*.

“Marcus,” her voice brought him back, “are you just going to stare?”

He chuckled again at the impatient note in her voice. “Oh no.” Then his voice turned to liquid velvet as he promised, “I’m going to touch you, taste you. I’m going to make love to you again and again. I’m going to make your body mine.”

A deep shudder ran through her at the expression in his eyes and in his voice. He couldn’t have aroused her more if he’d described in vivid detail what he wanted to do. Still, she couldn’t help challenging, “Talk is cheap, Cole.”

His name came out as a moan of bliss as he brushed a thumb gently over her clitoris. “You were saying?”

“Oh, yes. Oh, yes. There,” she moaned again. “Oh, that’s good.” He continued to massage the sensitive flesh, pressing gently against the bone underneath, causing almost unbearably intense pleasure. She writhed on the bed, arching toward him. She wanted to get closer to him, and to the hand that was playing her with such aching sweetness. Her head rolled from side to side, and her hands twisted in the covers.

He shifted position slowly, moving his hands to cup her bottom, his face poised inches above her cunt. His heated gaze locked with hers just before he licked from her quivering opening to the swollen nub of flesh he had so recently teased. “Sweet,” he crooned, causing her body to shiver in delight. “Hot and sweet.” Back and forth he moved his tongue, lapping softly, then flicking rapidly over the soft folds. Fire surged through him as he tasted her, felt the silkiness of her, causing his renewed erection to throb insistently. She begged to feel him inside her, so, with pointed tongue, he obliged, probing gently in and out. He met her gaze again and whispered hoarsely, “That’s right. Let go.” Then he bent his head again, closing his lips over her clitoris, tugging and sucking gently.

She came with abandon, screaming out, “Yes! Oh Yes! Now!” She trembled, shook, bucked against him, and all the while he held her, never letting up the stimulation. She was gasping now, clutching at his hair as she came.

At last he moved over her again, his tongue invading her mouth. She sighed softly, “I thought I’d teach you, but. . .” She trailed off as her body shuddered again. “Where did you learn that?”

He smiled. “Well, I do read.”

“Mmm. I do appreciate it,” she whispered as she pressed him back on the mattress and straddled his hips. “Are you ready for some more practical application?”

“Oh, yes,” he groaned.

She slowly lowered her hips, enveloping him in her silken sheath. They moaned together as she sank lower and lower until her hips ground against his. She paused to adjust to the sensation of him hard and deep within her, then rose and slid back down again. She made her movements slow and sensuous, wanting to prolong the pleasure for both of them. He groaned musically as she clenched her muscle around him with each upward stroke, releasing him as her body slid down. The sound of his pleasure filled her with satisfaction, and even more hunger for him. Sensations enveloped and whirled around her, through her. She trembled with the force of them and clenched her thighs more tightly against her lover.

He reached up to squeeze her breasts again and again, watching her as she rode him. She was flushed, moisture beading on her skin to mingle with his. Her lips were parted, her head was back, her breasts bounced softly to her rhythm. Bit by bit, her moans grew deeper, her movements more frantic. He moved his hand to stroke her insistently. “Yes,” she cried over and over. Hot, intense ripples of pleasure welled up, radiating from her core to every part of her being. She arched to meet them, shaking in wet release, sobbing, “Marcus.” She sagged against him in completion.

He held her close for a moment before rolling her over onto her back beneath him. “Do you know,” he gasped, “you are even *more* beautiful when you come?” He captured her lips then, achingly slow, belying the heated tension of his body. He poised above her, pulled nearly all the way out, then inched back in. He stroked again with the same slow rhythm, gritting his teeth against the urge to drive into her. She moved with him, arching up to meet him thrust for thrust. He bent to kiss her again, tasting the heat of her mouth before moving to plunder the hollow of her throat. He could feel her tremble beneath  
him, squeezing his shaft again. The pleasure was almost too much, but he wouldn’t let go. He lifted her hips to try a different angle and shook with the sensation of being so deep inside her. He moved faster now, thrusting into her again and again as she wrapped her legs more tightly around him, rising to meet his next movement. Marcus surged into her even deeper. He thrust into her hungrily again and again. Harder. Faster.

Her name tore from his lips in an anguished cry of release, shuddering again and again as he came, his features contorted with intense ecstasy.

He lay still for some time, whispering a litany of love and awe against her ear before finally easing off her. He pulled her into a tender embrace, caressing her soft skin. She played a hand lightly across his chest before resting contentedly in the crook of his arm. As she drifted off to sleep, she decided she was *really* going to enjoy learning Minbari.

finis


End file.
